


Death and Destruction Raining From the Sky

by sentimental_boy



Series: Matt Murdock imagines [66]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: College era, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 12:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9657056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentimental_boy/pseuds/sentimental_boy
Summary: Everyone knows where they were when the portal opened and aliens flew into Manhattan, bent on world domination. Everyone remembers who they were with, and what they dropped as they saw the footage with their own two eyes. You were in a little diner, with a boy named Matthew, who you barely knew. You dropped your fries.





	

Everyone knows where they were when the portal opened and aliens flew into Manhattan, bent on world domination. Everyone remembers who they were with, and what they dropped as they saw the footage with their own two eyes. You were in a little diner, with a boy named Matthew, who you barely knew. You dropped your fries.

-0-

“So, are we studying here?” Matt asks as he taps his way over to the bench you're sitting on.

“I don’t know, I was going to see what you wanted to do. We could see if one of the study rooms in the library is open.”

“I’ll bet you a side of fries at the diner the next block over, that they’re all full.”

You raise a brow before realizing that the gesture is lost on him. “Oh yeah?”

He nods, a cheeky grin coming to rest on his face.

“Alright, I can spare $4.50.” You tell him, standing and making your way over to the library.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” You eye him.

“Are you rich?”

“What?”

“You’re going to an ivy league school and you can spare $4.50?”

You roll your eyes. “What can I say? I’m going to be paying off student loans for the rest of my life.”

“Ah. That makes more sense. I was going to say- I wouldn’t be advertising things like that.”

You make your way up the steps, and as you scan each of the study rooms, they’re filled with various groups working on one thing or another.

“Well?” Matt speaks up next to you.

“Huh?”

He rests both hands on his cane and leans toward you. “What’s the verdict?”

“Yeah, they’re all full.”

He shrugs. “Okay.” He lowers his voice. “Between you and me, I always feel like a fish in an aquarium in those rooms. Something about the way voices bounce off the glass in such a confined space.”

“Well you could’ve said that instead of having me climb 10 flights of stairs.”

He chuckles. “Exactly how many stories up do you think we are right now?”

“I don’t know. I lost track on the 10 flights of stairs.”

He laughs. “Are you sure you know what the word flight, in reference to stairs means?”

“I may be fuzzy on the concept of what exactly a ‘flight’ constitutes. The point, however, is that you forced me to physically exert myself unnecessarily.”

The smile still hasn’t left his face. “Even though you agreed to the terms fair and square, I’ll be a gentleman and get the fries.”

“Well don’t humor me.”

“I can’t win with you, can I?”

“Probably not.”

He nods. “Alright, fair enough. Do I at least get some points for being the one to suggest that we work together, back in class?”

“Sure.”

“Well, it’s a start.” He hesitates, but after a moment, he gingerly reaches over to rest his hand in the crook of your arm. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, of course.”

A small smile rests on his face. “Lead the way.”

“Okay, we’re taking the elevator this time.”

-0-

When you get to the little diner and the waitress shows you your seats, you order a side of fries.

“Huh.” You muse as you look out the window.

“What is it?”

“Oh, it’s just, Stark tower is visible from here.”

“Oh, you a fan?” He asks with a grin.

“It’s commendable that he got out of the weapons game after he saw how it impacted real people. For someone so smart, though, I’m surprised he had to experience shit first hand to realize.”

“You seriously buy into the whole philanthropist bullshit?” Matt asks.

With the way the sunlight hits his glasses, you can see his whole expression. The crinkles by his eyes; the way his brows furrow; his nose scrunching up; and his mouth parting. Too bad he’s insulting your intelligence. And he was off to such a good start. “I’m not saying the man’s a saint, he sure seems cocky as hell, but it’s not like any of us know him. I’m just saying that it’s a good thing he keeps his suits as private property.”

“Yeah, until he gets drunk and lets his best buddy steal it for the army.”

“Yeah, there’s two sides to every story. Like I said, I’m not saying I agree with everything he does. but it does seem like he’s grown since he took over his father’s company.”

Matt nods. “Sorry, Foggy tells me I get a little intense when I talk about enhanced individuals. Which I know he’s technically not, but with his suits and a weapons permit he might as well be.”

“No, by all means. I’ve never been one for small talk either. Lets dive right into politics. What are your thoughts about feminism?”

“I think that basic human rights- or intersectional feminism- should be just that. A basic right. Not a political statement.”

“Alright, I’m liking you more already.”

Right as you’re saying that, the waitress comes over with the plate of fries.

“So, how about we actually get started on our project.”

Matt looks like he’s about to agree, but whatever he was about to say dies on his tongue as he tilts his head to the side and cranes his neck toward the window.

“What is that?” A woman asks in the distance.

“Looks like one of stark’s experiments.” Her companion replies.

“Holy fuck!” From another direction.

“-ou okay?” Matt catches the end of your sentence as he comes back.

“Y/n, is something happening at Stark tower?”

You glance out the window to see a blue glowing beam ripping a hole in the atmosphere. Or at least that’s what it looks like. From here you see a bunch of dots flowing through, and a few explosions in the sky.

Matt takes in your accelerated heartbeat, matching that of the other patrons as they turn to look out the window. People on the streets stop and stare up in awe, but Matt can’t get a read on what’s happening. “Y/n, what is it?”

It takes you a minute to respond, but you finally manage to force words out. “There’s a hole in the sky.”

“What?”

“There’s a hole in the sky. There’s a beam going up into the sky, and it looks like it’s ripping a hole right through the atmosphere. There’s this patch of galaxy where a bunch of… things are filing in. I can’t tell what they are.”

“I heard explosions.”

“Yeah, it looks like someone’s trying to fight… whatever it is coming through the portal.”

The waitress switches the tv to a news station.

“We’re just getting coverage of what’s happening at Stark tower. It appears that Iron Man is fighting these creatures coming through what appears to be a portal.”

“The banner at the bottom of the screen reads ‘experiment gone wrong?’” You inform Matt.

“It seems these creatures are spreading throughout Manhattan at an alarming rate, wreaking havoc. Authorities are advising citizens to seek cover, getting under a sturdy piece of furniture if you can.”

“Get under a sturdy piece of furniture.” Matt sneers. “That’s great. So no one knows what the fuck is happening.”

Then, one of the creatures speeds past the window, followed by a gasp from the remaining people in the restaurant.

“Shit. They're already over here.”

Matt hears your heart start racing with everyone else's. Then there's lightning- he can smell the ozone- and a crash. He hears it falling before it hits the building. Whatever ‘it’ is.

“Y/n, get down!” He yells, ducking down in the booth and covering his head right before rubble starts falling from the ceiling.

You only question how he knew it was coming for a brief second before you follow his orders. It’s a second longer than you should’ve waited though, because you’re still up when the ceiling starts to cave. You feel a hand grab your ankle and pull you under the table. Bracing your arms over your face so you don’t knock your teeth out on the way down; there’s a moment of cold blooded fear when you don't know what’s happening. Then you’re face to face with Matt, and you hear the ceiling caving in around you. You both surge forward in the commotion, clinging to each other and burying your faces in the other’s shoulder. Despite everything that’s happening around you, and the fact that you and Matt are this side of strangers, his body pressed against yours gives you some strange- and no doubt false- sense of security. But if this allows you some reprieve from the events taking place around you, one could hardly fault you for it.

As the dust is settling, Matt loosens his grip on you and smooths his hand along your back. “You okay?” When you don’t answer right away, he revises. “Physically, I mean.”

“Yeah, I think so.”

He nods. “Good.”

Right as you’re starting to breathe again, you hear more crashing outside.

At your resulting jump, Matt holds you tighter. “It’s okay, there’s nothing else to fall on us.”

You can’t help the desperate laugh the bubbles out of you at that. “There’s nothing left to fall on us. You know, when we get out of this, you should be a trauma counselor.”

He can’t help the swell of his heart at your wording, even if he doesn’t quite believe it himself. ‘When we get out of this.’ “I think I’ll stick to defending the innocent.”

You can't think of anything witty to say back, so you let the silence stretch on. As you reflect on the utter normalcy in your conversation, you let yourself believe, for only a moment, that you might live through this. “Do you think we could dig our way out?”

He’s silent for a minute. “I don’t think it's a good idea. We’re alive, and uninjured, which is a miracle in itself. If we start trying to move around too much, that could change.”

Then Matt’s phone starts a mantra of Foggy, Foggy, Foggy. “Foggy.” Matt breathes out; it's more of a sigh of relief than anything.”

“Matt! Where the hell are you? Are you okay?”

“Foggy, I’m- we’re trapped. A building collapsed on us, and I don’t know how much battery I have left.”

“What? Matt, where are you? And who else is there?”

“We’re at a diner- what used to be a diner on 49th street. Y/n- that girl from my pop culture class-” he pauses, listening for any signs of life. “We’re the only survivors. I think.” He adds the last part for show.

“Okay, don’t waste your battery. All the emergency lines are tied up right now, but I’ll make sure someone gets to you. Are either of you hurt?”

“No. Not right now.”

“Okay, don’t try to move. Text me if anything changes. I’ll keep you updated. Oh, is her phone working?”

“It’s working.” You confirm, having heard the whole thing at such a close range.

“Yeah, it’s working.” Matt tells Foggy.

“Should I get her number too? Just in case.”

“Go ahead.” You tell Matt before he rattles off your number to Foggy.

“Okay, stay safe.”

“You too, Foggy.” Matt responds before hanging up and turning to you. “How are you holding up?”

“About as well as can be expected.” You shrug. “Like you said, we’re okay, but we’re not safe.” Your words are accented by a series of crashes coming from outside.

Matt nods and scoots closer to you again. “Is this okay?” He asks as his arm twitches where it’s curled around your waist.

You let out a ghost of a laugh. “Yes, Matt, it’s okay.” You tell him as you rest your head on his chest and wrap your arms around him.

You sit like that for a minute, listening to each other breathe.

“You know,” Matt breaks the silence. “Since homework is out of the question, we might as well get to know each other.”

“Why not?” You laugh.

“Well, it’s better than sitting here in silence, thinking about the city being destroyed. Or over thinking ourselves into a panic over our situation.”

“Yeah, I mean, think about how cheap apartments will be after this.”

Matt lets out an only partially disapproving laugh. “That’s horribly insensitive.” He remarks, with no real judgment.

“Hey, I’m one of the people whom tragedy has befallen in this event. Comedy is my only defense. It’s better than crying or uncontrollable anger- which I’m sure is still to come. I’m too busy dissociating to make a proper analysis at the moment. Which is great for you because that last thing you need is a hysterical girl on your shoulder.”

“Eh, it would give me something to do.”

“Asshole.” You mutter, even as you continue to hold him. You might even curl in closer.

He chuckles. “I’m glad you're not hysterical, though.”

Hours pass like that; strangers holding each other while trying to distract and comfort the other. Hours turn into a day, with no more hope than a text from Foggy saying he’s trying to get help. He's trying. It’s as much as you can ask for but still doesn't flood you with relief.

“Matt, what if they don’t get to us in time?”

“What do you mean?” He runs his hand along your arm.

“They say you can only survive 3 days without water. It’s already been one and Foggy said he’s getting help. Not help is on the way. Then once they find us, it’s going to take a while to dig us out. Then, like you said, the rubble could shift wrong and crush us.”

Matt’s quiet for a minute. “I don’t have anything profound to tell you. I wish I did, but all I can think of is: if that did happen- if we didn’t make it out of this- would you really want to waste your last hours worrying about it? Being afraid?”

“Of course not, but I don’t see much of an alternative.”

He goes silent again before he finally speaks up. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone, then.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. That’s the point, though. If we’re not going to make it through this, it doesn’t matter, right?”

“But we still could.”

“Is that optimism I hear?”

“You’re insufferable Matthew.”

He laughs. “Alright. I’ll start then. When I was blinded, I gained enhanced senses that let me know what’s happening around me.”

“No shit.” You say in disbelief.

“Uh, yes shit?”

You can’t help your laugh at that. “So, I have no secrets that rival that, but tell me more, because that’s super vague. Like, how do they work?”

And so Matt spends the next however long explaining to you how exactly his senses work.

“...that’s how I knew to pull you under here, while no one else had time to move. All that crashing we heard yesterday wasn’t just any fighting.”

“Well, that much was clear when aliens fucking flew through a portal.”

He nods. “True. Do you remember a couple years ago when that big green guy ripped through Harlem?”

“How do you know he was green?”

He lets out a laugh. “I have reliable sources.”

“Ah. Okay, continue.”

“Well, all that ruckus outside yesterday was him, fighting the aliens. They’d land on the side of the building and he’d jump up, smashing them one by one.”

“So he and Tony Stark are the ones who presumably saved the city?”

“I’m sure others were involved. I think I heard Thor right before the building collapsed. If the events in New Mexico are to be believed.”

“Dr. Foster sure makes it sound plausible. In any case, you didn’t need super hearing to get that the god of thunder was trying to fight an alien right above us.”

“Okay, I see that.” He takes a second. “No pun intended.”

“Ugh, you’re awful.” He responds with a laugh, and your conversation dies again after that. “Wait a minute. Did you know all the study rooms were full when you goaded me into climbing all those steps?”

He throws his head back. “All those steps. It was only on the second floor.”

“You underestimate exactly how much it goes against my belief system to squander my energy, Mr. Murdock.”

“Clearly.”

-0-

It’s another day and two dead phone batteries before Matt perks up.

“Matt, do you hear someone?”

He nods. “It’s a woman. She’s alone. I don’t know if she’ll hear us through all this.”

“We need to give it a shot, Matt. I don’t want to hurt your super delicate senses, though, so you call her.”

You see him nod through the little streams of light coming through the cracks in the rubble. He covers your ears before he screams for help as loud as he can. He stops for a moment, tilting his head to the side and lowering his hands. “She paused. I think she heard me.”

“Try again.”

Matt covers your ears again and cries out for help again.

“Hey, is someone down there?” You hear her voice muffled.

“There’s two of us alive. We’ve been down here for 2 days, now.” Matt shouts back, but not quite as loud this time.

“Alright, I’m going to help you; keep talking to me. Are either of you hurt?”

“No.” Matt responds. “Are you alone?”

“Yeah.” She states.

“How are you going to- we’re buried under 10 feet of concrete.”

“I’ll manage.”

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I said I’ll manage. Do what the rest of new york is good at and worry about yourselves right now.”

Matt’s dumbstruck at that. He doesn’t say anything until she’s standing right over you. “Okay, you’re right above us.” He calls up.

The only response is the sound of rubble shifting above you. You sit there for hours and wait as the shadows move over Matt’s face. He gives you a thin-lipped smile every once in awhile and gives your hands a squeeze. You assume he’s going for reassuring but all he does is convince you of how nervous he is. When the woman finally gets to the table you’re stuck under and lifts it up, you allow yourself a breath of relief.

“Matt, you go first.”

“Y/n, are you sure?”

You let out an exasperated sigh and stand with him. “Go on, I’m right behind you.”

He nods, but the hard line of his brows doesn’t soften as he turns around to climb out of the hole you’ve been trapped in. Once he’s standing with the woman who helped you, you search for a semi-secure place to climb out yourself. Right as you find a toehold, though, the table finally snaps at the new angle, and it snags your leg on its way down.

Whatever happens next is a blur. You hear the woman let out a string of expletives, and Matt call your name in panic as more rubble tumbles on top of the table, and by extension, your leg. You probably let out a shout somewhere in there too, if the amount of sudden pain you’re in is anything to go by. All you know is that after the dust clears the woman is hopping down to help you, cursing all the way. Matt comes to follow her down but she stops him with a bark of orders.

“Stay there.” When Matt tries to argue, she cuts him off. “I got this. She needs immediate medical attention and once I get her out, I don’t have time to save your ass. Now stay up there if you don’t want your girlfriend here to bleed out.”

It takes obvious effort for Matt not to respond to that, much less listen to her words. But he does, and he busies himself by scowling with his hands on his hips while he waits on the sidelines.

You haven’t known Matt for very long, but being in a life or death situation, you sure get to know someone fast. You can tell he hates this, not being able to be the one helping you. You suppose it would be annoying- understatement of the year- being perfectly capable and having everyone assume you’re not. You also have no idea why in this current moment, Matt’s personality traits are what you’re thinking about. Maybe it’s a survival reflex kicking in. Trying to keep you from thinking about the fact that: should you get to a hospital before you bleed out, they’ll most likely have to amputate your leg. Yes, you definitely prefer thinking about Matt. But there will be time for disassociating later. When you only have one leg. Right now you’re trying not to bleed out.

-0-

Jessica- as you find out on the way to Metro General- stays with you in stoic silence until they rush you off to surgery.

“I have to go. I’m sorry this happened to you.” Are her parting words before she disappears.

You wake from the surgery to one wrung out looking blind man at your side. You didn’t expect him to come at all, to be honest. Why would he? He just went through a traumatic experience. He needs to let his family and Foggy Know he's okay. He needs to spend time reflecting on the fact that he gets to be with his loved ones again. Take a shower, change. After all, it’s not like you’re friends. But no. Here he is, at your bedside, with cement flakes still powdering his hair and shirt.

His head shoots up from where it’s buried in his hands when your eyes flutter open. As he breathes out your name, he fumbles for your hand, holding it tight once he finds it. “Are you okay?”

“I uh, I’m actually not sure what happened in there yet, but I’m alive.”

Just as you finish your sentence, the doctor comes in and calls your name.

“Yeah?”

“I’m Dr. Jameson.” She holds out her hand for you to shake. After formalities are exchanged, she dives into your condition. “As I’m sure you’re aware, we had to remove your left leg, right below the knee.”

“What?” You breathe out. You tear the covers off to see that yes, most of your shin is gone, and there’s now white gauze bandaging a stump.

Matt hears you trying to force breaths through the lump in your throat. He doesn't know you well enough to know if you need to be left alone right now, but based off your reactions the last two days, he risks scooting closer and reaching a hesitant hand over to take yours. When you grasp his hand in a vice-like grip, he breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Is that the only thing?” You ask as if a missing limb isn't enough.

“No. Your right ankle is sprained. I want to keep you here for observation for five days to start.

“To start? I have classes. I assume I still have classes.”

“I’m sure your professors will understand.”

-0-

Matt is an absolute sweetheart your whole hospital stay. He stays with you until they let you out of bed to shower. When he comes back- finally cement particle free- it’s with your laptop and flowers.

“Awww, Matt, are those for me?”

He gives a shy smile. “Yeah, you’ll have to forgive me if they’re ugly. I had to choose them by smell.”

You laugh. “They’re beautiful.”

He ducks his head down before changing the subject. “I uh, talked to your roommate and she got this for me.” He sets your laptop on the little table next to you. “I assume there’s wifi here. I didn’t want you to be trapped in mobile hell.”

You chuckle. “Thank you, Matt.”

He nods and takes a seat. “You’re welcome.”

A minute of silence passes before you blurt out the question that’s been on your mind since he showed up after the accident. “Why are you still here, Matt?”

He freezes. “Uh, do you want me to go?”

“No, I’m sorry. I just don’t understand why you’re still here, being so nice. It’s not like we were close before. As I’m sure you can tell, even my family’s not here.”

“I think there are some things that you go through, and that shared experience forms a bond that’s not easily broken. One of those things is being trapped under a building for two days in the middle of a war zone.”

“Or fighting a troll, Hermione?”

He laughs, and from this angle, you can see the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Yeah. I’ll admit, I’m a little bit of a nerd. Or at least that’s what Foggy tells me.”

“It’s okay, that only makes me fall in love with you a little. I’ll restrain myself.”

It’s a joke. Matt knows it. But Matt also knows what it sounds like when someone is using a joke or sarcasm to cover up a truth. So he takes a leap of faith. After all, faith is one thing he’s good at. “Why?” He tilts his head to the side and lets a little grin come to rest on his face.

“Huh?” And it’s so soft only Matt can hear it, and even so, barely over your racing heart.

“Why restrain yourself?”

“I…” And when you trail off Matt scoots closer, bringing his hand up and threading your fingers together.

“Is it alright if I let myself go for a minute?”

You let out a soft breath and nod.

After your wordless approval, he stands up, bending down and covering your lips with his. As you kiss, his hand that’s not holding yours slides up to cup your face. When you part, he hovers there for a minute.

“Y/n, I know we don’t know each other, not well, but I want to be with you.” He takes off his glasses and stares to your right.

“Why?” You murmur.

He lowers himself back into his seat, his thumb running along his closed fist at his side. “Uh, because I think I have pretty good idea of your character and I like what I've seen. Because you know about me like no one else has. Because I don't want to let my feelings go on until I’m getting jealous that you found someone else. Anyway, this way we can't ruin a friendship with a relationship.”

You smile. “Alright Murdock, I’ll give you a shot.”

“Why thank you. I appreciate it.”

“You should. I don't like just anyone.”

-6 months later-

You plop back into your wheelchair after physical therapy and violently try to remove your prosthetic leg. It's not working very well for you.

Matt comes around from where he was holding wheelchair and squats in front of you, resting his hands on your knees. “Hey, y/n, sweetheart, talk to me. What exactly is going on?”

You take a deep breath. “I- I know I’m not the first person to deal with this” you have to take another breath, reigning yourself in. “But I can’t do it.” you let out a broken, frustrated sob. “I've heard of so many people who are so strong and well adjusted through a disability. How do they- how do you do it? I don't want to feel sorry for myself but goddamn.” Your dam finally breaks and you start sobbing in earnest now. “I’m afraid I’ll never get it. I mean, how long have I been at it now? Two weeks with my prosthetic leg, and what do I have to show for it? It’s been agony getting used to this damn thing.” You hit the armrest of the chair. “I should be making progress.”

He hangs his head and lets out a breath. “I’m sorry. I truly am. This,” he motions to your leg. “This isn’t something I’d wish on anyone. But y/n, it's going to be a process. You're making progress; you’re relying less and less on your crutches, on the rails in therapy. Living with a disability can be hard. That’s not going to go away. That’s why it’s called a disability. But it’s not the end of the world. Do you honestly think that all these well-adjusted people you’ve met and heard about didn’t ever feel like it wasn’t going to get better? That they didn’t have setbacks?”

“Of course I know they faced challenges. It’s just-” You sigh and wipe your face.

He leans forward and puts his hands on your shoulder, prompting a hug. “Come here. It’s going to be okay.” He tells you once he has you in his arms. “You're going to get through this and I’ll be here every step of the way. I promise.”

“I love you, Matt.”

He pulls back enough to rest his forehead on yours as he slides a hand through your hair. “I love you too.” He punctuates his confession with a sweet kiss. “You know, I was a kid when it happened.” He gestures to his eyes. “So I don’t know if it’s the same.” He stands and wheels you over to a nearby bench. “I went to trauma recovery, I learned braille, how to use a cane. Uh, do you want this off?” He gestures to your prosthetic leg.

You shake your head. “No, I was just frustrated. Go on.”

“Okay. Well, these were all things I’d need in my new life. It wasn’t easy but I had my dad for most of it.”

You take his hand in yours. “For most of it?”

“Uh, yeah. He died about a year later.”

“Matt, I’m so sorry.”

He nods. “Thanks.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, after, when I was in the orphanage, it got worse. I never told anyone- including my dad- about my senses, but they made it so hard to adjust. I could hear everything. It wasn’t just the noises of the orphanage, though that would’ve been enough. I heard everything within a mile radius. It was so loud. There would be days where one of the nuns would take me back to my room and I would lay in bed with my hands over my ears trying to muffle the sounds of the city. Do you know how bad things have to be to get your own room in an orphanage?”

“Matt, I’m-”

He shakes his head and cuts you off. “I don’t want your apologies. I’m telling you this so you know, first hand, that you’re not alone. And yeah, you deserve your moments to scream and cry and be livid, and even scared, just like the rest of us. Today is one of those days for you.”

“Thank you, Matt.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

-0-

Back on campus, you and Matt are hanging out between classes when you look down at your phone. “Shit!”

“What is it?” Matt asks, sitting up and leaning in close.

You sigh. “I lost track of time. I’m going to be late.”

“Do you want me to take you? It’ll be faster, and I don’t have any classes for another hour.”

“Uh, sure, thanks.”

He nods as he takes his cane from where it’s leaning next to him and folds it up. “Here, can you hold this?”

“Sure.”

Matt stands and gets behind you, taking the handles of your wheelchair, and leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Hold on, I’m going to get you to class on time.”

“Matt, wha-” You cut yourself off with a little gasp when Matt breaks out into a run. “Matt, what are you doing?” You exclaim around a laugh now.

“I thought I just told you. I’m getting you to class. Now, pay attention. You’re my eyes right now.”

“Matt-”

“You’re going to have to tell me which way to go, or I’m just going to keep going straight.”

“Matt, slow down, there’s a group of people in front of us.”

“And they’re not parting for the blind man and the girl in the wheelchair? I don’t deal with people putting their foot in their mouth and stuttered out apologies all day for this.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Okay, there’s an opening now.”

He breaks out into a run again, as you finally hop on board with his little game and start directing him. Matt does, indeed, get you to class not only on time but with time to spare.

“Alright, thanks,Matt.”

He shrugs. “Sure. See you later?”

“Yeah.” You smile.

“Hey.” He murmurs, leaning down and finding your lips with his.

You don’t know if you’ll ever get over how cute he is, the way he noses his way around your face before a kiss, searching for your lips. “Love you.” You tell him when you part.

“Love you too.” He gives you another little peck before he goes to walk away.

“Matt, you forgot your cane.”

“Oh.” He smiles as he comes back to retrieve it. “Thank you.”

-0-

You and Matt graduate together, and when it comes time to find apartments, Matt invites you over to help him look. It’s like that, sitting pressed up against each other with your laptop between you, that he asks you to move in with him. You look over at him and exchange a disbelieving ‘really?’ to his confirming ‘really.' Then it’s his turn to second guess your agreement to his offer with a ‘yeah?' while you confirm with a ‘yeah.' It’s all very touching how after a year and a half together, you’re both still so grateful for the other’s decision to stay together.

When he quits Landman and Zach to start the firm with Foggy, you’re nothing but supportive. Weeks later when he hears horrors unfolding a block over and calls child services, you’re there for him. You remind him what he’s capable of, and stand with his decision to wear a mask. Later, when he decides to become a symbol for Hell’s Kitchen, for good, you stand with him in that.

And maybe, now that the city’s being rebuilt, now that it’s starting to become a semblance of itself again, that’s why he takes you back to that little diner you sat at three years ago now.

“Matt, why are we here?” You ask him.

“Are you okay?” He asks, rethinking his decision to bring you here.

“I’m fine, I’m just wondering why you wanted to come back here now.”

“Maybe I’m feeling nostalgic.”

“For what? Being trapped under a building for two days?”

He lets out a breath. “A lot of bad things happened that day.”

“Understatement of the year.”

He nods. “But the way I see it, some good happened too. We both lived. That was no small miracle. I was stuck with you, which led to us getting together, and if that’s the price I had to pay to be with you, I’d pay it a million times over.”

“This is all very romantic and everything, except, are you forgetting exactly what happened that day? All the other people in the building lost their lives. I lost my leg.”

He goes silent for a moment. “I know. But look around you. Where disaster struck, here we are, rebuilding, fortifying, and coming out stronger than ever. People like to talk shit about New Yorkers but look at us. Taking the worst things life has to offer and saying no. We will go on. We take this tragedy and turn it into a sense of community, of belonging. That’s why I brought you here again. Because that asshole who destroyed my city- our city- doesn’t get to take this place from us. He was no god.”

“Okay, Matt.” You cover his hand with yours.

When he feels your hand on him, he grasps it, tracing his fingers over your ring finger and murmuring your name.

“What is it, Matt?”

“There’s another reason I brought you here.” You squeeze his hand but otherwise let him continue. “I uh,” he stops and clears his throat. “Do you want to get married?”

“What, like someday? Sure, I guess. You brought me all the way here just to discuss this?”

“Well, I sort of meant do you want to marry me, soon.”

“Oh.” Oh. That makes more sense. Grand gesture and all that. “You don't think it’s too soon?”

“Well, I can't answer that for you. For me, though, I have everything I need- everything I could ever want with you. I love you. I’m not waiting for someone better to come along because they don’t exist.”

“Oh, Matt.” You laugh and shake your head, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “I love you too, and I want to be with you but ‘as long as we both shall live’ is a big commitment. It’s hard to wrap my mind around so fast.”

He squeezes your hand and forces a smile. “I understand. Just, let me know when you decide?”

You chuckle. “You’ll be the first to know.”

His thin smile melts into something more sincere at that. “Good.”

-0-

It’s been a few weeks since Matt asked you to marry him, and you can tell he’s getting restless. There have been a couple times when you know he’s caught himself right before asking you if you’ve made your decision. Each time, you respond by giving him a passionate kiss and reminding him how much you love him. It’s not until you’ve spent a week pretending that you’ve already said yes that you come to a decision.

“Matt, I have an answer for you.” You inform him one night after dinner as he’s setting the dishes in the sink.

Matt hurdles his way to the sofa. Literally. One second he’s in the kitchen, the next, he’s falling on the other side of the sofa and sitting to attention.

You huff out a laugh before you lean in to kiss him. “Jesus, what if I said no?” You laugh as you pull back.

Matt’s eyes dart back and forth, focusing on nothing as his brain catches up to what you just said. “If you said no?”

You grin. “Yeah. Matt, do you still want to marry me?”

He lets out a breath. “Shit, fuck, yes. Yes, I still want to marry you.” He breathes out before lunging forward and pulling you into a passionate kiss.

“How many Hail Mary’s are you going to have to say for that choir boy?” You laugh as you part.

“I don’t care.” He breathes out as he presses in for another kiss. “And sweetheart?” He asks as he pulls back for air.

“Yeah?”

“I would’ve been devastated if you said no.”


End file.
